


Cold Flame

by speakingofnarwhals



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakingofnarwhals/pseuds/speakingofnarwhals
Summary: A simple mission goes not as planned, and the team realizes they have a disturbing tendency to lose black paladins...Meanwhile Keith learns some things about his family that he isn't sure he wanted to know, and discovers some surprises from his past have followed him into space.





	1. Head is a Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Hello welcome to a fic I shouldn't be writing lol.  
> Canon compliant up to season 3. I'm sure season 4 will tear this to shreds but I'm very proud of how far I've actually outlined this thing so I'm going to give it a go.  
> Primarily a Keith-centric fic involving some of his backstory (bc I am very intrigued as to why Shiro wasn't sure if Keith stole the damn knife or not) and also some of his family-story. 
> 
> Series title is [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvGTau39rcQ) although on my computer this story is labeled "Keith's Space Drama" so do with that as you will.  
> The title for this chapter is also a song! [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yjgp0Z61fr8). Music inspires a lot of my writing and I'm bad at coming up with titles so lots of chapters will probably have songs associated with them.
> 
> This is a prologue-esque chapter, so it may be a little weird I guess. Next chapter will start in the canon timeline after S3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello welcome to a fic I shouldn't be writing lol.  
> Canon compliant up to season 3. I'm sure season 4 will tear this to shreds but I'm very proud of how far I've actually outlined this thing so I'm going to give it a go.  
> Primarily a Keith-centric fic involving some of his backstory (bc I am very intrigued as to why Shiro wasn't sure if Keith stole the damn knife or not) and also some of his family-story.
> 
> Series title is this song although on my computer this story is labeled "Keith's Space Drama" so do with that as you will.  
> The title for this chapter is also a song! link. Music inspires a lot of my writing and I'm bad at coming up with titles so lots of chapters will probably have songs associated with them.
> 
> This is a prologue-esque chapter, so it may be a little weird I guess. Next chapter will start in the canon timeline after S3.

When Keith is eight years old, his father leaves him to find his mother. Keith isn’t really sure how she got lost in the first place, his dad will never say. Nobody else he knows has lost their mother… although his friend, Finn, is missing his dad. Finn’s mom doesn’t seem interested in finding him, though. 

Keith’s dad leaves him with Finn’s family. Keith’s dad worked for Finn’s mom at her vehicle repair shop, and sometimes he would show Keith and Finn how to do things like change the oil. Keith is happy that he gets to stay with Finn, even though he’s sad that his dad is leaving. Finn is his best friend, and he’s really nice and his hair is very long and yellow. The old ladies at the diner always call him “sweet” when he and Keith go in to get milkshakes. 

Finn has a big sister, Jillian, who’s two times as old as Keith, and can drive a car. Jillian isn’t as nice as Finn. The ladies at the diner say she’s “full of piss and vinegar” and that she should probably stop wearing shirts that show off her boobs and short shorts. But Keith likes Jillian the way she is. 

Finn’s mom, Ms. Argent, is not usually very nice, but when Keith’s dad drops him off to stay with her she is very nice. She offers him lemonade and talks in a soft, sharp voice to Keith’s father, but whenever she looks at Keith himself, her gaze softens. Finn comes into the kitchen and drinks some lemonade, too, and they watch the adults argue while trying to look like they’re not. 

Keith’s dad gives him a hug, and ruffles Finn’s long, yellow hair, and thanks Ms. Argent one more time, which just makes her frown. 

And then he’s gone. 

Living with Ms. Argent is fun. He and Finn share a room, and Keith lets his hair get long like Finn’s. It’s a bit like a sleepover, but after a while it doesn’t feel as exciting, it just feels like normal. 

Sometimes his father sends him postcards from all over the US, and Ms. Argent forces a smile when she hands them to him. She teaches Keith how to fix cars like his dad used to, and she packs him lunches that are mostly peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which is not like his dad used to. Jillian walks them to school and, when Keith gets a bruise on his knee when some of the bigger boys knock him over for fun, she teaches him how to punch “like he means it.” 

Sometimes, late at night, Jillian and her mother argue. Jill wants to go to college, Ms. Argent wants her to stay and work at the shop. In the end, Jill goes to a community college a few miles away to get her associate’s in business, and Ms. Argent only complains about it a little bit. 

When Keith is 13, Ms. Argent starts teaching him how to drive. It’s technically not legal, and he can’t drive anywhere without her, but she says it’s silly that he and Finn know so much about the inside of a car without knowing how to drive it. They learn with a stick shift, because that’s all they have, and Ms. Argent says it’s better. She says you’ve got to be able to feel the car when you use a stick, and that he shouldn’t be upset if it takes a while to get a hang of. By the end of their first lesson, Keith can do a circle of the lot. Finn takes a long time to figure out how to get the car to start moving without stalling, and Keith tries not to feel too smug about that. 

Jillian lets him drive her motorcycle a couple times, but when he crashes into one of the old sheds behind the shop, Ms. Argent puts an end to it. 

Even though Finn is a year younger, he is much taller than Keith, which is really annoying. His hair is still long, hanging all the way down to his butt. Keith thinks it’s gorgeous, but his hair is much thicker than Finn’s and it gets hot and itchy in the summer so he cuts it short. Finn says he looks cute no matter what his hair looks like, and Keith blushes redder than the jacket he bought from the Goodwill the last time they went to the city. 

There isn’t a lot of room for schools in their town, so the high school and junior high are connected. A lot of their classmates have older siblings there, and people still remember Jill even though she’s graduated. It makes a lot of the teachers give Finn suspicious looks. Most of the teachers are confused by Keith’s last name and say it wrong, which is annoying, but he tries to be nice when he explains how to pronounce it for every class. Jill says it’s _important_ to be good in high school - not like she was - because education is _important_. Nobody wants to go to community college like she had to. 

In elementary school Keith and Finn didn’t have many other friends, and since there isn’t actually anyone new in junior high, that stays the same. It’s fine, though. Keith doesn’t really like other people that much. They always bare their teeth when they smile and don’t say what they mean. He likes the Argents because they’re always straight to the point, and they don’t treat Keith like he’s stupid if he doesn’t understand something. 

Being in junior high means that there are important things like dances. Keith and Finn don’t go, because neither of them have dates and neither of them want to. They go to the game because Jill goes to heckle both teams with some of her graduated friends. When the bigger boys catch them kissing behind the bleachers, they try to tease them, but Jill’s been teaching both of them how to fight. They hold their own until the sheriff comes by and hauls all of them off to the police station. Ms. Argent picks them up and tells them that some people think boys kissing boys is worse than boys kissing girls, and they should be careful, but that she doesn’t mind it. 

Keith is still 13 when Ms. Argent gets sick. Or at least, that’s when he learns about it. Jillian seems to have known about it. She says it’s because of all the damn cigarettes, and Ms. Argent tells her to watch her mouth. 

Jill starts doing most of the work in the shop, and Keith and Finn help when they get out of school for the day. Finn says he’ll quit school to work full time, but Jillian says an education is more important. Keith doesn’t know what he wants to do, aside from make Ms. Argent better so that everyone can stop looking so lost all the time. 

Keith is still 13 when Ms. Argent dies. 

Doctors cost a lot of money, and they don’t have much of it to spare. Jillian sells almost everything but the stick-shift car Keith learned to drive in and as much as they could stuff in the trunk, and they leave town. She tries to find a job, but there aren’t many that will pay her enough for them to get by. Eventually she finds a job at a strip club, and she tells them that people will think less of her for it, but those people are also so pathetic that they have to pay to see pretty girls in their underwear, so who’s really worse off? 

Keith and Finn help clean up some days, and the ladies that work there are all nice to them and say that they’re “such sweet boys”, and “very respectful.” All Keith does is sweep the floor, but he’ll take it. 

There is one girl there, Kyla, whose voice sounds harsh and smoky like Ms. Argent’s did, and has the most wide, colorful eyes Keith has ever seen. One night, Jillian lets them sit behind the bar and help out, since they’re so short staffed that she’s serving instead of dancing. When Kyla takes the stage, the room goes wild and then deathly silent, and strange, thudding music comes out of the speakers. The lights flicker and ripple, gold and purple and pink, and when Kyla dances her hair shimmers from its usual brown to red, green, blond, purple, blue. 

Kyla and Jillian get along well, even though Kyla smokes, which makes Jillian upset, which makes her angry. Most everything Jillian feels is somehow mixed with anger, and Keith understands that. Fear or pain can spark and tangle until you’re just angry at everything. Finn doesn’t seem to get that way, ever, and Keith likes that about him. 

For the most part, Kyla seems rather neutral. Sometimes she sits in the car with them, just the four of them, and she talks about the places she’s been and the things she’s done. Jillian leans into her, and sometimes they kiss, and other times they send Keith and Finn out to Sonic to get slushies and give them some peace and quiet. One night, when they are banished from the car, Keith mutters to Finn about how he thinks that Kyla might be a fairy, and Finn, who never laughs at anything Keith says, nods solemnly. They slurp their slushies in contemplative silence. 

When Keith is 14, Kyla gets word of somewhere better. She tells Jillian that it’s a place for people like them, people who are different. Keith isn’t entirely sure what she means by it, but at the same time, he knows she’s telling the truth. The three of them – four of them – are different. Ms. Argent said that was okay, but Kyla says that people here hate them for it. Keith rubs the bruises on his arms from the last fight he got into, and figures she might be right. In the end, it doesn’t take much to convince Jill that they should leave, and so they go. 

They end up in Arizona, in a town called Hope Creek that is filled with square apartment buildings and flashy clubs, and is a convenient distance from the Galaxy Garrison. The people of Hope Creek are thieves who steal shit from the Garrison and sell it somewhere else, then get rich enough to buy fancy cars and speeders and drink lots of multi-colored alcohols at the flashy clubs. 

Keith is very interested in their speeders. Most of them don’t look like the ones in commercials, with the big round cockpits and boring white exterior. No, these come in all shapes and sizes, with tall windshields or short, but all are open to the air in some capacity. Keith remembers what it was like to ride Jill’s motorcycle - sold off a year ago - and thinks that it would be a lot like that. He wants one of those speeders. 

They meet the leader of the smugglers, Diana. She’s got dark skin and black hair that she keeps short and fuzzy. Her eyes are very wide and bright yellow. She has a daughter around Jill’s age, and Jillian looks at her with interest and Kyla squints at her suspiciously. Diana is very happy to see them, but in a dignified way. She asks to talk to Jill and Kyla in private, and Keith and Finn are escorted to another room in the big apartment building where Diana lives. The TV in the room is the biggest Keith has ever seen, and he and Finn spend the time waiting for Jill flipping through the channels. 

When Jill gets back, she tells them they’ll be homeschooled and that maybe they can learn how to ride the speeders if they’re good. She says this while looking at Keith, because Finn does not like fast things nearly as much as Keith. Jill learns how to drive a speeder first, because that’s what Diana wants her to do. She says it’s a lot like a motorcycle, as Keith expected, and Jill gets very good at it very quickly. Most nights she’s gone, leaving Keith and Finn to do homework or sit outside on the stairs of their apartment building and watch people stagger drunkenly between bars and clubs and back again. People here don’t seem to care if Finn leans on Keith’s shoulder while they sit. They don’t seem to mind that Finn doesn’t always recognize them even though they’ve known him for a while, or that Keith doesn’t like to talk, either. When Finn watches a couple of guys sway happily out of a bar arm in arm, singing a little song, and then kiss each other full on the lips, he decides to do the same to Keith. The drunks cheer for them, which embarrasses them both and they retreat into the apartment. But it was nice. 

Eventually, Jill decides that Keith has been good for long enough and he gets lessons on driving the speeder. Sometimes various citizens will come and watch, sometimes they offer advice. A lot of them tell Keith he’s very good, and one day, Diana comes and watches. Jill glares at her the entire time, which Keith thinks is probably a bad idea. Jill likes to talk about being nice to people who give you money, but she often isn’t herself. 

A few weeks later, Diana catches Keith while he’s picking up groceries in town and asks if he’d like to drive getaway for one of the smuggling operations. He’d get paid, same rate as the other drivers. The number Diana mentions makes his eyes bulge a little. Is that what Jill’s getting? No wonder they can afford all the food on this list. Imagine how much more food they could afford if Keith and Finn started working, too? It’s something Keith has only mentioned to Jill a few times. She had been clear for a long time that she wanted Finn and Keith to focus on learning, not working, so he knew better to bring it up… but… 

When he brings home the groceries, he mentions it to Finn, first. He’s been practicing shooting with Amy and Gen, and he’s pretty good at it, and Diana said they’d make a good cover team if Finn could manage shooting while on the bike. Finn seems a little reluctant, but not too reluctant, and together they manage to pout at Jill until she relents. 

Even after Jill agrees to let them go, there’s even more practicing. Making sure they work together well on the bike, can communicate with the other drivers. They won’t be carrying any goods – one of Jill’s many conditions – but they can run interference on pursuing vehicles if needed. Finally, months after the initial go-ahead, Keith gets to drive on his first mission. Jill runs with them, Kyla disguising herself as a Garrison student to get in and take the tech they’re after. She doesn’t do a very good job, because despite Jill’s hopes, the Garrison catches on to the theft and comes after them. Finn rides on the back of Keith’s speeder and pops the tires of the Garrison cruisers. Jillian drives like a maniac, and Kyla cackles with one arm looped around her waist and the other around a bag of tech, tiny boxes with flickering lights that don’t look worth all of this trouble. 

Diana is very happy when they get back, and Keith keeps doing well with his homeschool materials, and he races on the weekends with the other boys and wins and wins. Jill lets them go to the club and he tries some drinks, but they’re all bitter and make his stomach roil, so he settles for watching Finn’s cheeks get rosy as he swigs hard lemonade, and they dance in their own little corner of the world. Most of the time, he doesn’t think about his father, or worry about how he hasn’t seen a postcard from him in ages, even before they moved away from Ms. Argent’s machine shop. He usually doesn’t miss Ms. Argent, because he still has Jillian and Finn, and now Diana, who sometimes reminds him of Ms. Argent, if a bit more refined. And he certainly doesn’t wonder what his own mother might be like, gone long before he can remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought about how it was written, bc i know the style was a little weird and choppy and probably full of run-on sentences lol. I've been looking at this prologue for ages if I don't post it it won't happen before season 4 comes out so.


	2. In which we get a mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to try to keep posting a new chapter every weekend.

Keith really hated meetings. In general, always, for as long as he could remember. Holding still and listening for long periods of time was just not his strong suit. If the meeting was about something important it helped, but that meant when his attention inevitably wandered it was an actual problem. It was especially a problem now that he was the _leader of Voltron_. He had a data pad in front of him, so he could take notes. He didn’t like it as much as writing with real pen and paper (especially because pens had buttons to press and sometimes clips to fiddle with), but Pidge had given him a stylus and shown him how to use it like a real notebook, which helped. Across from him, he could tell Lance was also having trouble holding still, fidgeting in his seat as he tried to keep his eyes focused on the Blade of Marmora member currently debriefing them. 

Staying in contact with the Blade was difficult, which added another level of importance to this meeting. Their members were stretched thin trying to help freed planets maintain their independence and infiltrating the empire in search of information (a task that had become more challenging now that the empire was aware of their existence). Maintaining contact with their allies was incredibly important, though, and Keith figured these in-person (in-Galra?) meetings were crucial for another reason as well. The team had warmed up to the Blade members pretty well after their initial discomfort, but sometimes he thought it was beneficial to have a real, physical reminder that just because they were big, purple, and intimidating, didn’t mean they were anything like the enemy. It was a helpful reminder for him, too, after weeks of nightmares about the parts of him that were so dark and unknown and intimidating. Intimidating didn’t have to be bad. Unknown didn’t mean evil.

The Blade member before them now was definitely not intimidating. They were a data specialist, short for a Galra (but still several feet taller than Keith), with dark purple hair in two braids framing a lighter purple face with streaks of grey-purple fanning out from those pupil-less, glowing eyes. They had fangs that refused to stay tucked into their mouth when it was closed, instead protruding a bit over their lower lip, and a very blue tongue. Keith felt like that looked unhealthy, but what did he know about Galra? The answer – nothing – sat a bit uncomfortably. He should probably do something about that, but any time he thought he’d worked up the courage to ask Kolivan more questions about his heritage, it vanished as soon as he confronted the Blade’s stoic leader. It wasn’t that he was scared of Kolivan, really. The man was gruff, and not particularly friendly, and had subjected him to a life-or-death battle for knowledge on their first meeting, but he was honest, and a good leader. 

The truth was, Keith was kind of okay with not knowing. He wasn’t sure when he’d become so… comfortable? Content? For all of his life, he’d longed to know what had happened to his parents. His mother had been missing longer, but what about his father, who’d left to go look for her when he was young? Were either of them alive? Why had his mother left, and why hadn’t either of them come back? The questions used to haunt him, but since he’d joined Voltron all of that had gone quiet. He had a purpose. He’d told Kolivan the truth, when he’d said it didn’t matter where he came from. Sometimes, when he thought about the atrocities that the Galra empire had wrought, it was hard to believe, but he knew it was true. He was Keith Kogane, a paladin of Voltron, and he would fight to protect the innocent people of the universe. What could be more important than that? Certainly not parents who had left him behind. 

He had a new family now. A family that loved him even though there wasn’t any blood connecting them. Even though some of his blood wasn’t even human.

Keith scowled at his data pad. He’d been spacing out again. Thankfully, the Blade member was still rambling on about supply routes and possible allies, things that Allura and Shiro were happy to strategize about. He was dangerously close to getting lost in his own thoughts again when the Galra fell silent, putting a bony finger to the communicator in their ear, “What is it?” they asked, “Yes, okay, yes,” 

Looking troubled, the Galra turned to Keith, “I’ve been informed that some of my teammates have experienced difficulties with their ship. They crashed on a planet nearby, I’ll be needed to assess if a rescue mission will be possible…” they reminded him of Pidge, as their expression grew distant, already thinking about the new problem at hand. 

“We could help, Nalos,” Lance spoke up. 

The Galra – Nalos, right, their name was Nalos – tilted their head curiously, “I suppose you could. But surely you’re busy?” 

Allura looked tempted to agree with the offered out, and Shiro said carefully, “If you can manage it by yourself-”

There had been an uneasy feeling in Keith’s gut ever since they’d gotten Shiro back, something that twisted sharper every time he said things like that, things that were not Shiro-like at all… he said, “We’re paladins of Voltron. We help those in need. We’d be glad to help your crew any way we can, Nalos.” 

Clearly, Nalos had been expecting a dismissal. They didn’t appear to be very high in the Blade of Marmora hierarchy, a complex and shifting network that Keith had never been able to understand. He didn’t think the higher-ranking members intentionally neglected the less prominent ones, but the Blade was not a large group, and they rationed their resources diligently. 

After gracing Keith with a slow, owlish blink, Nalos said, “Thank you,” after a contemplative pause, they flicked their long, narrow ears, “I’ll need to return to my pod for my equipment. The crew reported strange energy signals that interfered with their equipment, which is why they need me to determine if there’s a way to work around them… but I imagine the lions could likely withstand whatever it is…” 

Pidge nodded, “Probably. Let me come with you, I can help,” 

Nalos nodded and they headed back to the bay their ship was parked, Pidge in tow.

Shiro frowned, “Keith, I don’t think we have time for this, Nalos was telling us something about a communications base. It’ll be leaving this area soon, we should figure out how to act…” 

Allura placed a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, “And we shall, as soon as we assist those in need. Keith is right. The Paladin Code insists that we help anyone who needs us, and we should be glad to help Nalos, especially after they have provided us with such valuable information.” 

Shiro didn’t look completely content with this answer, but he nodded. Hunk and Lance trailed out after Nalos and Pidge, leaving only Shiro, Keith, and Allura in the meeting room. 

“I think I’ll head to the control deck. Might as well be ready to move. Keith?” Allura prompted somewhat unsubtly. Shiro cast a curious glance between them, but didn’t bother to follow as they left the room. 

Allura’s expression darkened as they walked down the hall, “You have known Shiro the longest, haven’t you?” 

“Yeah, I’ve known him for a few years,” Keith said. 

“He’s acting strange, isn’t he? I wasn’t sure, since I haven’t known him that long, and he’d gone through so much when I first met him. But you’re noticing it, too, aren’t you?” 

Keith nodded, “I mean, yeah, he was different after Kerberos, but it wasn’t… like this. Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t…” Keith didn’t like the idea of saying it out loud, of making it true, “He seems colder? It’s not like Shiro at all. I don’t like to admit it, but I understand why Black didn’t accept him.” 

Allura’s mouth formed a discontented line, “I agree. I imagine whatever he went through when he was transported back into the Galra’s hands must’ve been traumatic. I’m hoping with more time he’ll recover, but I may… try to talk to him. Or have Coran do so? I’m honestly not sure what to say.” 

“Yeah, same,” Keith nodded, “I can’t imagine what he must’ve been through…” he trailed off as they approached the control deck. He was glad that Allura had been so tactful in bringing up this conversation. He wasn’t sure how much the others noticed the changes in Shiro, but he wasn’t going to bring it to their attention. They all had enough to worry about already. 

Pidge was perched on the arm of her control station with Nalos folded into the too-small seat, in deep conversation over the diagram of what looked like a donut-shaped planet. Coran looked over the Galra’s shoulder with interest. 

Lance frowned at them, “You two sure took your sweet time,” he said suspiciously. 

Pidge looked up from her screen long enough to share an exasperated look with Keith, and then returned to her work. When Lance would finally figure out that Keith was gay as fuck was anybody’s guess, but the longer they let him believe he and Allura were some kind of thing, the better his reaction would be when it was all revealed. At least, that’s what Hunk said. Keith wasn’t really a fan of the angry looks, but other than the weird moments when Lance was acting jealous of Allura, Keith thought they were getting along pretty well. 

“The planet’s gravitational field is strange, but should not have caused the type of interference the crew described,” Nalos began explaining without preamble, “It appears that there’s several strong energy sources interspersed around the planet, underground. We’re not sure if they are natural or artificial.” 

“The lions shouldn’t be bothered by them, though,” Coran said with certainty, “Especially considering Voltron’s ability to withstand rifts in space-time!” 

Nalos cocked their head at the statement, conflicted between asking a question and staying focused on the matter at hand. Thankfully, they turned their attention back to analyzing the best route to the stranded ship without comment. While Keith trusted the Blade of Marmora, he wasn’t sure he wanted information about the comet and the rift becoming widely known. They had informed Kolivan, but if he didn’t disperse that information to his people, then Keith didn’t think they should, either. He shot Coran a look he hoped illustrated that sentiment, but the man seemed oblivious. 

“So what’s the plan?” Lance asked, “We should drop in as soon as possible, right?” 

Pidge shook her head, “Probably not, actually. The location where the crew is stranded is currently in night, and visibility is essentially nonexistent. They’re also in a densely wooded area, so we would have to approach the wreck on foot, without any knowledge of the wildlife or what these energy readings are. I suggest we wait until daylight. Nalos contacted the crew, and they think it’s a good idea to wait, too.” 

Keith nodded, “Sounds like a plan. Is there anything in particular we need to know about this planet?” 

Nalos jerked their head to the side in a gesture Keith interpreted as a shrug for some reason, “It’s largely unpopulated. It was once a trading outpost for escaped criminals of Zarkon’s empire, but overpopulation and infighting lead to destruction of the colonies. There may be a few outlaws that still inhabit the place, but my crew has already done some scouting and have found no signs of sentient life in their area. They are in a heavily forested area that limits visibility, but otherwise their position seems secure.” 

“So it’s a ghost town planet?” Hunk whispered.

“Cool!” Keith could tell Lance was envisaging something very different from the reality of the planet. He leaned over Nalos to get a better look at the terrain. Dense trees with dark foliage, some rivers. No, this was not a place where Lance would get to reenact some of his favorite westerns. Especially since Keith hoped there would be no need for a duel on this simple rescue mission. 

Leaving people stranded overnight left Keith with an uncomfortable feeling, but Pidge and Nalos seemed confident they’d be alright. Besides, it was getting late according to his internal clock, as well. One issue with finding a time to meet with Nalos had been pushing the meeting into what served as nighttime on the castleship. He would love to get a quick workout in and head to bed, so he’d be rested for the mission. From the way Hunk stifled a yawn, he suspected the others might like a rest, too. 

“If there’s nothing else we need to discuss, why don’t we all get some rest before the mission? Be ready in seven vargas. We won’t need everyone, but we’ll have everyone out so we can practice formations.” 

It felt strange, to watch everyone nod solemnly at him. Keith decided to head to the training deck to clear his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i hated the end of this chapter but it's w/e.


	3. Intermission: Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before the mission, the paladins are dreaming...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will not be the only chapter I post this weekend. it doesn't really do anything but I enjoyed writing it so there.
> 
> Also, are the notes on the other chapters weird for anyone else??? The end notes from chapter 1 are on chapter 2, and when i tried to fix it I ended up with two beginning notes on ch 1??? so i'm giving up

The Castle of Lions drifted through space, a soft white glow in the dark. Inside, the hallways were silent. Coran stood at attention, awake on the observation deck, as was his tendency when the nightmares became too much to bear. One of the mice perched on his shoulder, sharing his vigil as he stared unseeing at the stars beyond the glass. While he watched, the others slept, and he dedicated a soft thought - perhaps a prayer - that his young charges were all sleeping restfully. 

Keith dreamt of space. Its vastness, the wonders that it held, hidden from humanity for so long. He dreamt he was at the edge of it, like a deep pool of black water lit with twinkling light. He knew that somewhere in there were answers. The questions he was not so sure of, but he knew that he had them. He knew they needed to be answered. He dreamt of diving into that dark ocean, expecting to feel refreshing coolness, welcoming a slight shock and anticipating wonder. Instead, he hit the surface and everything was pain, and red blood and black cells and purple glow, and he was being torn apart…

Lance dreamt of heat. It wasn’t humid, like Cuba. It was dry and empty and wanting. He was hungry, thirsty, longing, and a desert road stretched out before him with no end in sight. Beside him there was a bike, but it was crushed and smoking, and Lance didn’t know how to fix it. Part of him wanted to call out, but he was afraid. Afraid that nobody would answer, or that the answer would not be kind. There was something pulling him, from the unseen end of that desert road, so he started walking… 

Allura dreamt of an ocean she had never seen before. It was blue and green and beautiful, and it was filled to the brim with possibilities. There was a family with her, a woman who reminded her of her father with her clever eyes and crooked smile. The man was soft, proud, and he held a young child in his arms. A grandchild, Allura thought. The child’s father played in the surf with his wife, and everything was so warm, so beautiful, and she knew that it wasn’t going to last, that when she woke it would be gone, and her heart ached with what she could never have again… 

Pidge dreamt of reaching. She extended her hand, and it flew across lightyears in the blink of an eye. Galaxies so far from home no human could comprehend tickled at her palm, black holes brushed the back of her hand. Wonders in color, beauty, science, all of the above, but she had no time to stop and admire them. She had a mission, a quest. She reached, and reached, and reached, and when she thought she could not extend herself any farther, she felt the softest touch of fingertips reaching back to her. Farther, farther, to the very edge of her being, reaching until she thought she would tear apart, and then their hands clasped, she had found him…

Hunk stood in an open field, and he knew something was coming. What? That was always the question. _What is it? Why are you so afraid? Hunk, honey, it’s not that scary…_ But it didn’t matter if it was scary or not. It didn’t matter that the horizon was clear, the sky blue with puffy, picturesque white clouds floating above. _There was something coming._ What was it? _What was it?_ He stood in the field, helpless, begging himself to move. If he moved, then he’d know, right? He could find it, what was coming, he could do something. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, and he knew that it didn’t matter. No matter how much he tried to breathe deeply or think rationally, it was there, and it was coming, even if it wasn’t and he knew it…

Shiro dreamt of drowning. It was not water that he was drowning in. It was something dark and viscous, stinging his eyes. The substance was already in his lungs, drifting in and out like air, but he knew this was wrong, it wasn’t what he was supposed to be breathing. He needed air, so that he could be right. Yellow eyes glowed at him through the dark, a narrow face lined with red. This was wrong. He was wrong. But he didn’t know _why_ …

Coran yawned, once, twice. The third time, the mouse squeaked scoldingly. He could not understand it word-for-squeak, but he figured it was probably reminding him that Allura would be furious if she discovered he’d refused to sleep for an entire night again. Sighing, he cast one last look out the window, thinking positive thoughts or some nonsense. Alteans did not tend toward superstition, but so often that seemed to be the only thing Coran could hold onto. He didn’t know if there was some greater being listening to him, but he reached out to them anyways. Then he returned to his room and took a small green pill that would afford him a dreamless sleep, and drifted off.


	4. A Happening

Rescue missions were Lance’s favorite, if he had to choose. Not that it was good that somebody needed to be rescued or anything. It just felt nice not to be blasting everything to bits for once, and just plain _helping_. Getting a little gratitude didn’t hurt either. Though he’d be surprised if he got more than solemn nods of thanks from these Marmorites. They tended to be a pretty somber bunch. Maybe they’d give him one of those awkward handshakes where their hand took up his entire forearm. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel about that, to be honest…

“Lance, are you paying attention?” Keith snapped, tugging him from his thoughts, “Stay in formation!” 

It was hard with Allura intermittently surging forward to clip Red’s heels, but he kept that thought to himself. She had been getting better at steering, at least. No need to discourage her, or start a fight. He really couldn’t understand why it was so hard for her – he hadn’t even known that Blue existed until he met her, and she’d been fantastic to pilot from the start. Far easier than any Garrison ship, that’s for sure. 

Red grumbled something that he couldn’t quite hear. It was harder to understand her than Blue, but he thought she was critiquing his piloting. He stuck out his tongue at her, which made her laugh. But like, a mental laugh that nobody but he could hear. Then they shot past Black, who had come to a stop. 

“Lance!” Keith sounded more exasperated than usual. 

“Sorry!” he swerved back into formation. They were hovering just above the planet the Blades had crashed on. The surface of the planet was rocky, but it was covered with coarse trees growing out from cracks in the stone. The branches were as gray as the rocks they grew out of, with thick canopies of leaves in purple and red. The sky was lit by a small star glowing just on the horizon, and in the dawn light a haze of fog coated everything. 

“What’s the matter Keith?” Pidge asked. 

“I don’t know…” their leader mumbled, “There’s just… something down there. It’s not right.” 

Hunk whined uncomfortably, “Don’t say that! It already looks creepy enough as it is!” 

“There are no signs of life on the planet,” Coran said carefully over the intercoms, “None that the castle ship can pick up, anyways.” 

Nalos spoke up, “If they are in the ship, it will cloak their biorhythms. I provided Pidge with an algorithm that should be able to detect it.” 

“Running it now,” Pidge announced, “We should get closer, Keith,” she prompted. 

“Right,” Keith said, sounding far away as he led their descent toward the planet’s surface. 

“There’s some interference…” Pidge muttered, “must be that weird energy they were talking about…” there was a beep across the line, and Pidge let out a little victorious cry, “There’s something over there. To your left, Keith.”

They changed course, following Pidge’s directions, and soon found themselves at a towering fortress of stone-like trees. 

“There’s no way we’re getting through there in our lions,” Hunk moaned with dread. 

“My scanners are telling me they’re somewhere in there.” Pidge confirmed, “Keith?” 

“Let’s get out and look, then,” he sighed. 

“Oh, great,” Lance heard Hunk mutter as they went in for landing in a bare patch at the head of the forest. 

Keith was the first one out of his lion. Allura’s touchdown was a bit less graceful, but Lance still offered her a thumbs-up as she exited Blue. Pidge took a moment to orient herself and the handheld device she’d transferred the tracking program to, and then they were moving through the vegetation. Keith activated his bayard to slash low-hanging branches out of their way, and the wounded trees dripped strange purple amber onto the ground in thick globs. Soon Keith’s sword was coated in the gunk, and he grumbled irritably as he tried to wipe it off on a wide-leafed fern. 

“I’ve never seen trees like this before,” Allura said wonderingly. Then, “You should be careful, Keith. We don’t know if these plants are poisonous.” 

Keith grunted, “I’m not eating them.” 

Yeah, he was definitely being shorter than usual. Lance frowned, figuring this was not the best time to bring it up. 

They kept tracking forward, Hunk crowding in on his heels when they heard the strange owl-like hoot of some creature. Wings fluttered in the breeze, and a pale white shape swept past before anyone could get a good look at it. Pidge yelped, Hunk ducked for cover, and Allura watched it whip past with interest. 

“Relax, guys, it’s just a bird… like thing…” Lance assured, “We’re fine.” 

“It’s just… weirdly quiet here, man. Where is everything else? That was the first sign of life we’ve seen.” Hunk pointed out.

“The trees are alive.” Pidge pointed out snidely. 

“Not what I mean, Pidge,” Hunk grumbled irritably, “Where are all the other animals? Also, Coran said there were no biorhythms on this planet. So where did that thing come from?” 

“The castle’s scanners are set to detect only known sentient life-forms’ biorhythms, not animals.” Allura informed them. 

“Only _known_ sentient species? What about the _unknown_ ones?” 

Lance grimaced. Hunk was headed straight for a freak out. He looked one arm over his friend’s shoulders, “It’ll be alright man. We’ve dealt with scarier things than owls before. We’ve got this.” 

Then Keith split away from the group. Just turned on his heel and started walking off without comment. What an encouraging leader.

“Woah, woah, woah, Keith, where are you going?” he demanded, releasing Hunk so he could start after their leader as he trudged into the undergrowth. Keith ignored him, of course. 

“Keith,” he grabbed at his friend’s shoulder, and the other paladin whirled on him, his knife in hand. “Woah! Dude, it’s just me.” 

“Lance,” Keith blinked, and his eyes looked very far away, “There’s something over there.” his expression sharpened, pointing the direction he’d started heading. 

“The ship? Did you see it?” Pidge demanded, “Because the tracker says it’s over this way.” She made a vague gesture the way they’d been headed.

“No, not the ship. I don’t know. There’s something over there. I can _feel_ it.” 

The rest of the team shared a look. Allura said, “I’ve felt a bit of a disturbance at the edge of my senses, as well. It’s likely the energy source that brought down the ship. Some kind of natural reservoir, like the Balmeran crystals, perhaps?” she tilted her head inquisitively, “I didn’t realize you could sense energy like that. Usually you’re all so dense.” 

“Dense?” Pidge’s eyes narrowed in offense. 

Keith ignored her, replying to Allura’s suggestion instead, “No, I don’t think so,” he still had his blade in hand. Lance would really feel more comfortable with this whole situation if he would put it away. 

“Well, what do you think it is?” he asked. 

Keith gave him an irritated glare, “I don’t know,” he snapped angrily, “I already said that! That’s why I’m going to look,” 

“We shouldn’t split up. This forest is very thick, and I think we’ve lost contact with Coran,” Allura pointed out. Everyone was silent for a moment, realizing that they hadn’t heard anything from the castle ship in a while. 

“Shit,” Hunk groaned, “no, no way, we should definitely not split up and should maybe also go back?” 

“We’re getting close to the ship,” Pidge said, also getting frustrated, “Let’s just get this over with. Come on, Keith,” 

Keith shook his head, “No. I’m going to look. The rest of you find the ship and get the Blades back to the lions. I’ll meet with you there.” 

This was bad. Lance could see the stubborn pout forming, the look Keith got when he was making a bad decision that he wasn’t going to be talked out of. He’d worn that expression a lot, in the early days of him being the black paladin, but Lance hadn’t seen that face in a while. But really, what was the harm? The Blade’s ship was nearby. He supposed they could let Keith follow his infamous instincts this one time. “I’m going with you, then. You shouldn’t go by yourself.”

Keith looked annoyed for only a moment, and maybe a little surprised that Lance wasn’t still trying to talk him out of it. “Fine,” he said, and turned on his heel. 

“Lance,” Hunk moaned, “Seriously?” 

“Pidge said you’re almost there. Like Keith said, we’ll meet up at the lions. This shouldn’t take that long.” he offered the rest of the group a thumbs-up. Pidge rolled her eyes and started walking again, with Allura and Hunk following behind. When Lance turned around, Keith was already disappearing into the trees. 

“Hey, wait up, you jerk!” he shouted, crashing into the vegetation after him. Well, this was as good a time as any to bring up Keith’s earlier curtness. “Is this why you were acting so grouchy earlier? This energy source or whatever?” 

Keith shrugged, “I could feel it earlier, yeah. It’s… really loud. I don’t know how Allura can ignore it.” 

“Loud?” Lance paused for a second, listening. He couldn’t hear anything but Keith crashing onward. Hunk’s voice warbled faintly in the distance. 

Keith shrugged yet again, “That’s not the right word. I can’t hear it. But if I could it would be loud.” 

“That makes no sense at all, but whatever,” Lance had a thought, “Is it like how you found Blue?” 

Keith nodded absently, “It’s the same way I heard – felt - her, yeah. But this isn’t like the lions. It’s calling me, but different.” 

“Wait, you didn’t say it was ‘calling you’ earlier. What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance demanded. He wanted to ask Allura if it was calling to her, too, but he figured she would butt in if she had anything useful to say. Unless, of course, their communicators weren’t in range anymore. How long had they been walking? 

Keith didn’t answer his question, and the silence stretched out for a very long time. Lance figured he hadn’t heard him, but when he asked again, Keith only shushed him. 

“We’re getting close, I-” he started to say, and then the ground imploded beneath his feet. 

“Holy smokes!” Lance shouted, his uncle reflexes preventing him from cursing out loud. Sparks of violet light flew up in front of him, and Keith cried out as he tumbled forward. The hole in the ground emitted a glow, golden light cutting through the fog. Lance staggered backward, wishing he had Pidge’s bayard so he could yank Keith away from the sinkhole. He cast around, hoping for a vine or stick he could send Keith’s way. And then, in the instant he looked away, the flashing lights went dark, and everything was back to being surreally quiet. There was no hole in the ground anymore, just a stretch of inconspicuous gray stone. There was also no Keith. 

“Keith? Buddy? Where’d you go, man?” Tentatively, Lance put a foot out onto the patch of ground. No lights flashed, the ground didn’t cave in. He withdrew quickly, found a loose stone and chucked it to where Keith had been standing. Still nothing. “Keeeeiith? Where are youuuu?” emboldened, he stepped out onto the slab of stone. He stomped on it a little. There was a metallic clang against his boots. Some kind of trapdoor? 

“L-lance,” Keith’s voice came through his helmet speakers, filled with static. 

“Keith, I think you fell into some kind of secret entrance. Can you see where you are? Are there any exits?” 

“Lance-” Keith started again, and this time he sounded a little panicked, “Lance there’s- where-” then Keith let out a shout, and the speakers ruffled with movement, and everything went silent. 

“Keith!” Lance howled, slamming a foot down on the door again. “Open, you stupid thing-”

“Lance!” Hunk’s voice, followed by the appearance of the yellow lion overhead, “There you are, buddy! What’s taking you so long? Where’s Keith?” 

“He fell!” Lance felt himself becoming a little hysterical. This was not something he expected to happen on a mission. They didn’t even know what this trapdoor was for. Was it Galra? Or did something else that lived on this creepy-ass planet design it?

“Fell where?” Pidge demanded, as Blue and Green appeared as well. 

Lance gestured helplessly at the ground. 

“Hold up, my scanners are showing a cavern underneath you,” Pidge said, “Get out of the way. Hunk, have Yellow dig open the door.” 

Lance backed off as Yellow landed and carefully hauled away the metal doorway. As soon as a wide enough opening appeared, Lance crowded into the space, flashing a light into the dark, “Keith? Are you there, buddy? We’ve got you!” 

But there was no response. Yellow took the pulled-up edge of the door in his mouth and yanked it off its hinges, showing a rectangular hole in the ground about ten feet deep and just as wide. There was nothing inside. “Keith!” Lance shouted, jumping into the hole. 

“Be careful, Lance!” Pidge chided. 

Cautiously, Lance felt his way around the hole. There had to be some other entryway, just as well-hidden as the one Keith had fallen into. There was no way he’d just vanished. Finally, his fingers brushed an uneven seam in the metal walls, but when he tried to wedge it open it sealed even more tightly into the wall. “Guys, I think I found something! Another door.” 

“Hold on, I’m coming down there. I’ll see if I can open it.” Pidge called. 

The other paladins disembarked from their lions, followed by two Blades. They wore their glowy masks and hoods, one tall and slender, kind of stereotypical Blade shape, and the other a bit thicker and walking with a limp. They watched on silently as Pidge searched around the door until she found a panel that she could open up, exposing some wiring. From there, she and Hunk made quick work of opening the door. It slid back smoothly to reveal a long, dark passageway designed for creatures much larger than them, given its height. 

“Oh boy, dark, creepy tunnels on foggy, creepy planets!” Hunk rambled, “My favorite!”

“We’ve gotta find Keith. Come on,” Lance pulled out his bayard, activating a smaller gun for the close quarters, and headed in. 

The tunnel didn’t have any branches, it just continued straight ahead for what felt like forever. Lance kept waiting for something to appear in the viewfinder of his gun, but there was _nothing_. What was going on here? 

“Keith?” Hunk called, hating the silence, “Where are you?” 

Pidge shushed him quickly, but his voice echoed through the empty hallway. Despite the noise, there was no response.

Eventually the hallway dead-ended at a door, much like the one at the entry, and Hunk wired it open while the others waited, weapons at the ready. The door whooshed open with a sigh, and Hunk jumped back, but they were looking into a dark, empty room. Lance’s bayard provided a light as he shuffled inside, checking to the sides of the door, looking for any crevices an enemy could jump out of. But the room appeared completely empty. 

Somewhere nearby, an engine roared to life. 

“Shit!” Pidge shrieked, slapping around on the wall until she found a light switch. The room was bathed in dark purple lights, like those used on Galra ships. “There has to be a door to a shuttle bay somewhere. There weren’t any other exits!” 

The door wasn’t too hard to find, but it was locked, a security measure, as the computer irritably informed them, as a ship was taking off on the other side. 

“Hunk!” 

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Hunk muttered, fingers fumbling with the wires. 

“Enough,” Allura snapped, backing up. Then she charged the door, smashing it clear off its hinges. 

“Woah!” Lance tucked his admiration away for later, following Allura into the new room. A blast of warm air hit him, but the roar of the engines was growing softer. “No!” he shouted, eyes adjusting to the light at the opening of the tunnel where the ship was quickly vanishing. He aimed a fired a few shots, but the ship was already out of the hangar. “Get to the lions!” he shouted, but he knew by the time he got back it would be too late. 

A roar filled Lance’s ears, and Red appeared at the end of the tunnel. She waited impatiently as he ran to her, and she took off before he was even seated in the cockpit. 

“Let’s get our boy back, Red,” he muttered, patting her dashboard, and she offered a determined snarl in response. 

“Lance, we’re heading to our lions. We’ll help you as soon as we can!” Allura called into the headset. 

“Copy,” he answered, “I’ve got visual on the ship. It looks like it’s Galra make, but not military.” 

Red was aching to shoot the ship out of the sky, but he reminded her that if Keith was on board, that would be a _bad_ idea. “We need to cut them off,” 

Easily, Red sped in front of the smaller ship, but when Lance whirled around to face it, the pilot had already dodged around them, still determinedly heading toward the planet’s thin atmosphere. Red growled in frustration, “Sorry, girl!” he muttered, “We can do this.” 

But Lance quickly found himself wondering if that was the case. It was a game of cat and mouse – sure Red was faster than the Galra ship, but Lance just couldn’t figure out where the ship was going to go. He would speed to one side only to have them jerk down, or up, or do a barrel roll right over Red’s head. She was getting angry, and he was getting flustered, and he was almost to the point of giving in to Red’s temptation to just shoot the bastards. But that would mean shooting Keith, too, and that was not an option.

“Guys!” he cried, irritated, “Where are you?” 

“We’re coming!” Pidge called, “But you’re going too fast. You need to head them off!” 

“I’m _trying_ ,” he responded through gritted teeth. 

A new voice came across the speakers, “What’s going on down there?” Coran asked. 

“I’m in pursuit of a Galra ship, they took Keith!” Lance explained. 

“Hold on, let me get to your location, I’ll see if I can stop them near the planet’s atmosphere…” 

Lance knew that was unlikely. The castleship was far more unwieldly than the lions, and if their most agile fighter couldn’t stop that ship, he didn’t think anyone could. In his mind, he could hear Red’s frustrated snarls, feel her straining against his controls like a horse worrying at the bit. And he realized: it wasn’t that Red wasn’t fast enough, it was him not piloting well enough. Keith could’ve done this, easily. But Keith was quickly being taken away from them, and all that was left was his sorry ass. 

Fuck, he was not going to cry. Not now. 

Red grumbled, hiding away her thoughts, regretting the effect they had had. But she wasn’t a creature to regret the action itself, nor apologize for it, and Lance bit his lip. He wasn’t going to be the weak link. 

With a burst of speed, they overtook the ship once again. Letting his mind twist loose, Lance followed his instincts like he imagined Keith did when he sped through asteroid belts and did other stupid, impressive shit. Red’s front claws grazed one of the ship’s wings, nearly hooking in, but then it twisted away from them as they burst through the atmosphere. 

“Quiznak! That thing’s moving faster than a glorglin in a firestorm!” Coran shouted, “I can’t catch it!” 

Lance remained in pursuit for as long as he could, but out in open space the smaller ship had even greater mobility, and he soon lost it in an asteroid belt. Forgetting himself for a moment, he slammed his fists on the dashboard, “Dammit!” he shouted, and once the profanities were out he couldn’t stop more from coming, “Shit! Fuck! _Mierda!_ " 

The team let him finish his rant in peace, and then Allura gently urged him to return to the hangar. As he disembarked, he couldn’t bring himself to look at Red. Sometimes he could forget that he was only replacing Keith as her paladin. He knew she loved Keith more than anything, and he’d failed her. He’d failed the whole team, and now who knew what was going to happen to their friend? 

Hunk was waiting for him at the entrance to Red’s hangar. He didn’t say anything, which Lance was grateful for, just wrapped him up in a fantastic Hunk-hug and kept an arm around him as they walked to the main deck together. 

The rest of the paladins were waiting there, as well as the rescued Blades and Nalos. One of them offered condolences for the loss of their fellow paladin, but the other remained silent. The Blade of Marmora was quite used to loss, and typically mourned the fallen in silence. Not that Keith was fallen. No. He had to be alive. And they were going to find him. 

“I got a tracker on the ship,” he said, “We need to follow them.” 

Allura jumped to the pilot’s deck as one of the Galra walked up to Lance, “That ship is not empire-built, although you were right – it does appear to be Galra engineering. We are in an area of the empire that is not inhabited by many imperial forces. I imagine the culprits are slavers.” he was forced to pause then, as Hunk let out a horrified cry. Lance felt similarly panicked, although he kept his internalized. He took everyone’s focus on calming Hunk as a moment to soothe his own fears, reminding himself that they were tracking the ship, that they would find Keith before those monsters could even try to sell him anywhere, that everything would be okay, okay, okay. 

Then the castleship started slowing down, “I… I’ve lost the signal,” Allura said hesitantly. Lance sat down heavily as Pidge and Hunk leapt into action, trying to come up with ways that the signal loss could’ve been a system failure on their end so they could fix it. But he saw the look on Coran’s face, the man already so familiar with loss and preparing for another one. The Blades were silent as ever, obviously not holding out much hope. 

After a while of scurrying around, Pidge and Hunk seemed to admit defeat. Into their despondent silence, Nalos said, “We have contacts in some of the planets where these types usually do business. We’ll see what we can find.” 

Allura thanked them quietly, and the Blade members prepared to return to their own base while the paladins shuffled off to change. Shiro put a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder as he walked out the door, and Lance wondered at the man’s silence. Hadn’t he been the closest to Keith on the team? But he put it up to shock, and headed off for a shower. 

That night, Lance dreamt of a suffocating weight around his neck. His skin prickled like needles were stabbing into every pore, and beneath that his bones felt molten hot, like they would sear through muscle and flesh at any second. His ears rang, his jaw ached, and when he sobbed his throat twisted in strange ways, making him choke.


	5. The Start of How it All Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're introduced to some new players.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A song for this chapter.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e1S9HUNoI4k)
> 
> Don't rely on these songs to make sense in regards to the chapters I'm not that smart.

### The Apprentice

“Paiiiiii! Are you going to help your masha or not? My old bones can’t carry all these bandages alone!” 

Paixa sighed, closing her journal and hurrying to stuff her feet into her hard-soled shoes. Masha would be angry about how she crushed the cloth backs with her heels, but masha would be even angrier if she took too long to help with the washing. Outside, the suns burned down mercilessly on the dusty trees, the wind rattling their branches together like Paixa imagined masha’s old bones would sound if they were without masha’s skin to keep them quiet. Unfortunately, masha’s mouth made plenty of noise already. 

“There you are, lazy child! Hurry, hurry!” masha’s eyes bulged out from their sockets, they were so old. Today, the eyes seemed a little bulgier. Perhaps it was just the light from the suns overhead making the whites look brighter. 

With a grunt, Paixa hefted one of the baskets of dirty bandages, while masha dragged the old cart with the wiggly wheel behind them down to the river. The girls in the village whispered that the Galra didn’t have to wash their laundry by hand. That if they stopped hiding in the middle of nowhere, the empire would give them riches, technology, and who knew what other fancy things. Masha said the Galra would tear them apart with their sharp teeth and claws and drink their blood like sweet wine.

Paixa had never seen a Galra, so she didn’t think she could make a sound judgement. Masha was old and their Path was to know things, though, so Paixa would trust them, for now. Until she could truly know for herself, as her Path was the same as masha’s. 

Few of her people received tutoring in the ways of their Path, but Paixa’s calling was unique. Being a scholar required not just curiosity but gathering of knowledge, and sometimes it was just more efficient to learn from others. Otherwise, everyone called to a Path of knowledge would just waste time rehashing what the last mashas had already learned. And as a training masha, Paixa knew that was stupid. 

“Hurry, Pai!” masha’s eyes were definitely bulging more than usual. 

“Is everything alright, masha? You seem tense,” she asked, trying not to sound too doting. Masha didn’t like people to acknowledge how horrifically old they were. 

Masha took a hand from the cart to rub at the horns that rose from a place just above their ears to curl up and back over the top of their head, “There are bad omens,” they said uneasily, “Perhaps we should return…” 

“But we’re nearly to the river!” Paixa argued, “You will not want to walk back here later.” 

Masha shook their head, “I thought we had time, but I was wrong, we should-”

A shadow fell over them, followed by a gust of hot, angry wind that blew the trees into a rattling frenzy. A dark machine was hovering above them, the glare of the sun making it impossible to distinguish any features. It descended silently, and for a moment Paixa could only stare in amazement at the sort of technology she had only heard about in stories. Then masha cursed and threw a dirty towel at her, “Run, fool girl!” 

Paixa turned to flee, but found herself wrapped quite suddenly in violet light, and her feet were lifted off the ground. She heard masha yell in outrage, and then she was pulled into the hull of the ship.

### The Soldier

There were slavers on the ship. It wasn’t an unheard of occurrence, but it was rare enough that Anev found herself struggling to hide her distaste and unease. To make it worse, these weren’t like any slavers she’d dealt with before. The leader, Gasa, was massive, with the keenest eyes Anev had ever seen. A silvereye slave followed her everywhere, shaped slender and whispy like a Valnean, a collar of dark metal around his neck. That was strange enough as it was. Few slavers got to keep any of the slaves they kidnapped, especially not ones with as much druitic potential as silvereyes. She was either in high favor with the witch to get such a reward, or she was foolish enough to try and hide something like that from her. Considering Gasa was here to have them help transfer her current batch of slaves to one of the witch’s ships, Anev doubted the latter option was true. 

Which meant that Gasa’s crew was incredibly skilled, and therefore incredibly dangerous. She had been carefully balancing avoiding them while trying not to _look_ like she was avoiding them. Fortunately, Jackev was making staying out of the way easier. He was always more obnoxious when there was someone around to impress. Apparently Gasa was close enough to the witch, and therefore the throne, to merit some extra posturing. 

As they were called to position to barricade the path between the transferring ships, he shoved Anev out of the way on his beeline for a position nearest the new vessel’s entrance. She didn’t see why standing at one end of the barricade versus another would seem more impressive, but she told herself it didn’t matter. There was no benefit in picking fights, even if Jackev could really use a beating. Discipline infractions brought either attention or death, and neither option was wanted. Especially not with a slaver well-versed in capturing silvers aboard the ship. 

The transfer was about to begin. Gasa was approaching, flanked by a pair of druids. Anev tried to ensure she was standing as tall as possible without obviously trying. Her form was short, for a Galra, but otherwise flawless. Her eyes took constant effort to maintain, but when she glanced at the reflective paneling of the wall beside her, she saw that they were still completely gold. Good. 

For the most part, slaves were handcuffed together and walked between ships during transfers. There was no reason for any more security, with the collars locking away any magic they might try to use, and guns trained on them to prevent any physical uprising. An entire patrol cruiser’s worth of guns seemed somewhat excessive. Usually slavers handled these kinds of transfers by themselves, or with the help of the druids that were usually aboard the witch’s ships. Not that Anev had asked anyone about it. Questions drew unnecessary attention. 

The first part of the transfer went as Anev had anticipated: a long line of sad-looking slaves was marched out of Gasa’s ship toward the new vessel. Cuffs clanked and feet shuffled, and a few times one of Gasa’s men waved a baton around to keep the line moving at its glacial pace. There were silvereyes among the slaves, of course, and Anev made sure not to make eye contact with any of them. There were two additional lines of slaves after that, with about ten slaves per chain. Quite a large number. No wonder Gasa was honored by the witch. 

Then, the transfer changed pace as a medical trolley was rolled down the ramp. There was a small form on it, covered in cloth but struggling against the bonds that were likely hidden underneath. Was that one ill? Normally if a slave was too weak or sickly, they would be left on some abandoned planet or executed for sport, but perhaps this one was lucky – or unlucky? – enough to have enough power to be worth trying to save. 

The trolley was followed by a group of Gasa’s men, the ship apparently all cleared out. Anev waited patiently for this duty to be over, for the slavers to leave so she could go back to her usual levels of anxiety. Instead, the captain called her over. _Quiznak_. She told herself it didn’t mean anything. She could think of nothing that would have marked her as an imposter. However, she couldn’t think of anything that she’d done wrong, either. And what other reason would there be to be called up by a superior? Galrans did not typically bother congratulating their underlings. 

She saluted her commander, noting the murky colors floating around his face. He was angry, but that was typical. The complicated nature of the anger was not, nor was the smug presence of Gasa next to him. Anev could still convince herself that she had not been discovered, but then she glanced over to the slave at Gasa’s side and saw the guilt shrouding him. His eyes met hers, as if begging forgiveness. She’d been sold out. _Bastard…_

There was nowhere to run: the barricade was still in place, and she had no friends among her peers. If ordered to, they would gladly take her down. Fighting Gasa or the commander would be pointless, and would not stop the inevitable. That left the silvereye. Pointless, true, but he had _betrayed_ her. She drew her sidearm. Gasa lunged for her immediately, but could not stop the bolt that crashed through her slave’s skull. It earned Anev a sound beating, but she grit her teeth through it. Undoubtedly, there would be many more to come.

### The Rebel

 _“By the way, you’re an alien,”_ is something Finn would’ve liked to have known several years ago. Back when he was looking at the world through a lens of color and realizing that other people did not see it the same way, and wondering what the hell was wrong with him. And he didn’t even have time to really process that fact, did he? Nope! Surprise, you’re an alien, and also there’s a war headed this way so either fight or sit on your ass like a coward! 

What kind of fucking choice was that? 

He admitted that sometimes he felt pretty badass, visiting different worlds and fighting off space imperialists. 

Most of the time he felt terrified, and kind of fake. Also like he needed a drink or seven. Jill had at least had the foresight to bring some provisions of that variety along, but they had use them sparingly because the plan was to not return to Earth anytime soon. Unless the managed to tear down an empire that had been ruling for ten thousand years sooner rather than later, which didn’t seem likely.

That was another thing he would’ve liked to have known before he stepped on board with this. Timeframe. _Some_ kind of perspective. Because someone saying “they rule most of the universe but the resistance is rising” sounds a lot more optimistic when you don’t know that the baseline for the resistance beforehand was _none_. He probably would’ve come anyways, because Jill was going and if the earth got blown to smithereens he would die, but like. Come on now. 

Still, there was lots of regret. Like right now, with enemy fire coming from every angle and his only shelter a boulder that covered about ninety percent of him. That would be a good percentage most of the time, but since he would like to be one hundred percent not shot, it was not so great. There were some things on earth he would’ve liked to wrap up before getting ten percent shot. Visit his mom’s grave one more time, figure out where the fuck Keith went, pet one last dog. But as dear ma always said, _“Life sucks, kid.”_

He should probably attempt to do something soon, instead of waiting for his demise in the fetal position behind a rock. If only he could think of a good plan, instead of his aforementioned demise. Could you get art block for plans? Because he probably had one currently, and he wasn’t sure any of the cures for that could be managed while fighting for your life. 

Instead of coming up with a plan, he was saved by someone grabbing him by the back of the neck and hauling him to his feet. “Stop!” bellowed a voice that was not human and was most definitely Galra. Never mind. Not saved. 

The Galra grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around to face them. The voice had sounded kind of female, but he had learned through several spectacular misconceptions not to try to apply human gender standards to aliens. The Galra lifted his chin with one very large, clawed hand, and stared into his eyes with their pupiless yellow ones, and Finn was surprised to find that he was not shaking with terror. Instead, he felt rather numb. Was he going to die? Why weren’t they just finishing him off? He had never seen a Galra call out to stop a slaughter. That tended to be something they encouraged. 

The Galra reached back, making to grab a weapon, and Finn squeezed his eyes shut. He would not scream, he would not cry, but he would not look his own death in the eyes. He wasn’t that brave. 

He waited for several agonizing moments for the sting of a blade, the burn of blaster fire. Nothing, a metallic click, nothing, and then a solid weight snapping closed around his neck. 

He opened his eyes, confused. There was a blurry purple figure in front of him, which was probably the Galra? Before they had been limned with red and purple, dancing, mixing colors that flickered over their features, but now he only saw what was below the colors. Which, of course, were other colors, but these were _different_. These were meaningless, just photons bouncing off of things and hitting his retinas. How was he supposed to know what was going on without those other lights? The ones that told him what people were feeling?

He reached up to touch the metal collar around his throat, still processing that he wasn’t dead. There was a sting at the back of his neck that he knew almost instantly was a needle, and then he was out.

* * *

Finn awoke to noise and smell. The noise was voices, shouting and jeering and arguing. The smells were… bad. Smoke, fuel, too many bodies in too little space. His head felt strange. His sight was fucked up and flat, buildings and people looking one and the same. He wasn’t completely blind; he could tell he was in a bad situation. Even without the roughness of the voices, there was the fact that his wrists were bound behind him, and there was something around his neck. He was on his knees, though he didn’t know how he’d remained upright while unconscious. There was a rapid-fire voice riding above the others, and though Finn could not understand the language, he recognized the cadence. An auctioneer. There were very few situations where all these elements added up to something good. 

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought about how it was written, bc i know the style was a little weird and choppy and probably full of run-on sentences lol. I've been looking at this prologue for ages if I don't post it it won't happen before season 4 comes out so.


End file.
